Green Means Go
by leyapearl
Summary: Bogg and Jeffrey leave the 1918 flu pandemic and drop into MA in 1970, where an arson fire forces them to take a civilian back in time.  History links are now included.
1. Phineas

_**GREEN MEANS GO**_

Denver, CO 1918

They staggered into the hospital, the man and the teenaged boy supporting the woman between them. The boy coughed and swayed on his feet, dark curls sticking to his forehead.

"Bogg," he said, his voice wavering between registers, "I've got to go sit for a minute. Can you manage?"

"You've done great, kid," was the answer. "You go rest. I'll get her to a doctor and be right back. Save your strength." Bogg put one arm under the woman's left arm and bent down to put his other arm behind her knees, pausing as a wave of dizziness hit. He straightened up slowly, cradling the woman in his arms, and haltingly made his way to a desk at the other end of the room, concentrating so hard on moving each step that he never saw his companion crumple and collapse to the floor.

"I need a doctor," he called out in his deep voice. "She needs help."

A man in a white coat had already spotted them and came forward with a gurney. Bogg gently placed the woman on it, gripping the side for support. The doctor cast an appraising glance at both of them. "Friend of yours?" he asked.

"Her name's Katherine Anne Porter. Make sure she's all right."

"We'll do the best we can," the doctor replied. "You should get yourself looked at as well, my friend, before you try to perform in that outfit."

Bogg shook his head and quickly realized it was a bad idea to move in that fashion. "Thanks, doc," he said. "I'll be fine. I just need to get my partner." He turned back towards the entrance, leaned on the wall for support, and pulled out his omni, smiling when he saw the green light. "Jeffrey," he called out, "green light, kid. We're good to go." The smile faded when he got no response. "Jeffrey?" Panic filled his chest as he realized Jeffrey wasn't in the room. "Jeff?" He looked around, then frantically grabbed a passing nurse. "Where's my kid? Where's my kid? He was right here a minute ago. About fifteen, dark curly hair, blue shirt?"

The nurse regarded him for a moment, compassion in the brown eyes peeking out above the mask she wore over her nose and mouth. "You're the father?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "He's over this way, sir. We're admitting him now. He's a very sick boy." She paused for a brief second. "That's the worst of this flu. It's hitting adolescents the hardest." She guided Bogg to a room down the hall. "The doctor's with him now."

From the doorway, Bogg could see a middle-aged, balding, white-coated man leaning over a still form on a bed, one hand on Jeffrey's forehead, the other positioning a stethoscope on his chest. Bogg's mouth felt dry. "Doc?"

The doctor looked up. "He should have been in here days ago." He turned back as Jeffrey started coughing again, a deep, wheezing cough that racked his body into spasms.

Bogg rushed to the bed, his own ailments ignored. "I didn't know... He never said anything."

The doctor shook his head as he listened to Jeffrey's lungs. "You will need to leave, sir, so I can treat your son. I would advise you to visit the chapel and pray for forgiveness for neglecting this boy."

Jeffrey stirred. "Bogg," he wheezed. "Don't leave me. Don't..." He started coughing again.

Bogg moved to take Jeffrey's hand. "I'm right here, kid. I won't leave."

"Yes, you will." The doctor pulled Bogg's arm away from the boy. "I need to treat this patient and cannot do so with you in the room. You need to leave now."

"No," Bogg pushed the doctor's hand away. "This is my kid, and I'm staying." Adrenaline rushed through his body. "You can't make me leave him."

The doctor moved towards the door. "Nurse!" he yelled down the hall. "Find me a few men from the cleaning staff to remove this man from my patient's room." He paused for a moment in the doorway. "I'm sorry to have to do this, sir, but it's for the good of your son." He turned back towards the bed. It was empty.


	2. Rebecca

Lawrence, MA 1970

"Vey'al kol Yisrael v'imeru. Amein." The rabbi closed his prayerbook, grabbed the shovel standing in the pile of dirt next to him and, with the curved blade facing down, picked up a small amount of dirt. He shook the shovel over the open grave and listened as the soil and stones hit the plain, pine box. He then turned and placed the shovel in the hands of the girl in black standing next to him, indicating she should do the same. With her mouth set in a hard line and tears leaking from her brown eyes, she repeated the motions.

"I am sorry for your loss, child," the man said, mechanically.

Inwardly Rebecca snorted. He hadn't even bothered to find out her name. A voice in the back of her head wondered if he even knew the name of the woman he had just said Kaddish for. _No, _she thought. _Saying Kaddish means Gran is really gone. _She took a deep breath. _No._

She flinched as the rabbi grabbed her arm. "I asked if you had a way to get home," he said in a flat voice.

Rebecca took another breath. She wouldn't show weakness in front of this man. "I can walk," she said, fighting to keep her voice from trembling. "Thank you for your concern."

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She paused before answering, then sighed knowing what his response would be once he heard the answer. "Essex Street."

"You can't walk that far from here. You won't get home until after dark, and it's not safe for a girl to be out after dark in that neighborhood." His jaw was set and his eyes stony.

"It's my neighborhood," she said, "and I'm not a girl. I'll be eighteen in a few months."

"Get in the car," he replied. "Seventeen is still a girl." As they drove closer to the city center, fire engines raced by, and they could see black smoke billowing from a storefront farther down the street. "Barbarians" the rabbi muttered, "burning down buildings for entertainment."

"You can drop me off here," Rebecca said. She couldn't stand to be in the car another minute. "I live over there." She waved her hand to the right in a vague direction. The rabbi stopped the car, and she got out. "Thank you for the ride."

Rebecca watched the Chevy Nova drive off before she started walking. She didn't want him to know exactly where she and her grandmother lived. _No. Where __**I**__ live. _The rabbi hadn't been thrilled to perform the funeral service of someone who wasn't a member of his congregation, and the very small donation Rebecca had made to the synagogue seemed to offend him. She didn't want him to ask about sitting shiva.

Except for the fire engines, Essex Street was quiet. It was a Sunday afternoon, so no one was out shopping at the few stores left on the street. As she climbed the stairs to the two-room apartment she and her grandmother had lived in for so many years, a few tears started falling from her eyes. _Damn it. I thought I was done with this for now. _ She opened the door, then turned and relocked it. Out of habit, she also turned the deadbolt and hitched the security chain in place. As she looked around the empty apartment, her breath started coming in huge gulps, and she could feel more tears threatening to fall.

Rebecca ran to the bathroom, gasping for breath. She wrenched the cold water faucet on, and started splashing her face in an attempt to regain control over her emotions. _No. Damn it. No. Not now. _Any other thoughts she might have had stopped when she heard the voice coming from the living room. _  
_

"Bat's breath!"

Rebecca froze, shock accomplishing the emotional control the water hadn't managed. _I know I locked the door. I always lock the door. _ She heard the sound of broken wood in the living room. Then the voice came again, this time sounding different, almost scared. "Jeffrey? Jeffrey, where are you?" Rebecca looked around for something she could use as a weapon. _Why couldn't I have been in the kitchen? _She grabbed the plunger, held it over her head, and walked out of the bathroom. The coffee table was in pieces on the floor, and there was a pirate staring at her.

"Where's Jeffrey?" The pirate's blue eyes were glazed, and his face was flushed. He pushed past Rebecca into the bathroom. "Jeff?" He noticed the door at the other end of the main room. "What's in there?"

"Uh, bedroom," Rebecca stammered. Keeping her back to the wall, she slid her feet across the floor until she got to the door, lowered one arm to the knob, and turned it. She heard coughing from inside the room, and when she turned her head, saw a boy sprawled sideways on her bed.

The pirate pushed past her. "Jeffrey.' The relief in his voice was palpable. "Thank..." He paused, looking around in confusion. "What happened to the walls?" he asked. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell to the floor.

Rebecca dropped the plunger and sank to her knees. "What was that?" was all she could say.


	3. Jeffrey

It's like being caught in a dream – or a nightmare – from which he can't wake. One minute he's helping Thomas Edison, the next he and Marco Polo are being taken captive; in both memories Bogg is gone. "Bogg? Where are you?" he mutters. He coughs, the spasms make breathing difficult.

"Jeffrey, open your mouth. I need you to swallow this." An arm reaches under the pillows that prop him up and pills are pushed in his mouth. "Come on, drink. No, drink and swallow." Water is poured in his mouth. "Good. Now let's have some soup." He doesn't recognize the female voice. It's not Olivia. Is it Annie Oakley? Anne Sullivan? Queen Anne? He snickers once and feels the soup trickle from the corner of his mouth. "Stop that," the voice says. Sirens blare in the background.

Heat runs through his body and his mind like electricity. Ben Franklin trying to launch his kite. Bogg burning at the stake. Then coolness on his forehead. A repeat of the pills and water. Swallowing. More water in his throat. A cool stinging on his chest and a burning in his eyes. Menthol? Yes, Vicks VapoRub. He smiles at a memory of his mother putting Vicks on his throat when he had a cold. "Mom?" he whispers, "thank you." Then more memories. The camper. The fire. "No," he moans. "Not this." He gulps air. "Mom? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you and Dad." Tears spill from his eyes down his cheeks as the grief of his eleven-year-old self rushes through his mind. "I tried so hard. I tried..."

A soft hand touches one cheek. "It's okay, Jeffrey. You're going to be all right. Rest and get some sleep." The image in his head shifts to a silk factory in China, then the Louvre, then a beach in Hawaii. He mutters, "Bogg, I want to go back to Hawaii." Finally the images dissipate, and he sleeps.

o-o-o-o-o

Jeffrey opened his eyes, stretched, and regarded his surroundings, feeling disoriented. This didn't look like Denver. A small room, a nightstand to his right with bottles of aspirin and Robitussin cough syrup and a container of Vicks - most of which it felt and smelled like he was wearing - was on his right. Through the window just past the nightstand he could see the sun setting and hear the sirens of fire engines. He propped himself up on his elbows and tried to look out the window to get his bearings. When that didn't work, he pushed his legs off the bed and onto the floor. Lightheadedness hit him like a wave and in grabbing the nightstand for support, several of the bottles clattered to the floor.

The door flew open. "Hey! Jeffrey! What do you think you're doing?" The speaker was a girl, a couple of years older and a couple of inches shorter than he was. "You get back on that bed right now." She pulled him back on the bed and rearranged the pillows so he could sit. "So you're awake," she said. "How do you feel?"

"Uh, yeah. Confused?" Jeffrey's voice felt rusty, as if it hadn't been used in a while. "Um, I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?" He glanced down, realizing he felt a breeze on his legs. He was wearing shorts and and a white tee-shirt, not jeans and a blue polo. "And what happened to my clothes?"

The girl's cheeks turned red. "Yeah, clothes." She took a breath. "I'm Rebecca Levy, and your clothes are at the foot of the bed." She paused and looked down at the floor. "I don't think either of us really wants to have a conversation about how they got there. They're clean, washed in hot water to kill germs. I hope I didn't shrink your jeans. "

Jeff's eyes went wide. She was right about not wanting to have that conversation. "Thank you." He leaned back against the pillows, starting to relax, then sat bolt upright as he suddenly realized something. "Where's Bogg?" he asked, concern flooding his face.

"Is that the pirate?" Rebecca asked. "I wondered what his name was. He's on the bed to your left, beside the other nightstand." She put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "He's going to be okay. His fever broke this morning. He's just asleep right now. He wasn't nearly as sick as you were." She looked at him with understanding. "Look, let me help you to the bathroom. You can get cleaned up, and then I can get you something to eat."

After a short bath - "No shower," Rebecca had warned. "I am not fishing you out of the tub." - Jeff shuffled into the kitchen, realizing with surprise the short walk had completely exhausted him and that he was hungry. Rebecca placed a bowl of soup in front of him. "Jewish penicillin," she said. "Just take it slow."

When the bowl was empty, Jeff moved it aside, put his elbows on the table, and rested his head on his hands. "So, how long have we been here?" he asked.

Rebecca gestured at the bowl, taking it off the table when Jeffrey shook his head. "Almost two weeks. You scared the living daylights out of me." She pulled an annoyed face at him. "I figure once you're both better, I'll make you explain how you got in my apartment."

"Your apartment?" Jeff wasn't able to hide his surprise. "You can't be **that **much older than me. Where are your folks?"

Rebecca's expression closed. "I'm almost eighteen. My parents died when I was a baby. My grandmother raised me." Her eyes filled, and she wiped them with the back of her hand. "She died a couple of weeks ago."

This time Jeffrey reached out a hand to Rebecca. "I'm sorry," he said. "My folks are gone, too."

"I know," she replied. At Jeff's look of surprise, she added, "You were... out of it for a bit. You talked about them." She turned her head to the wall for a moment. When she looked back at him, he knew she was changing the subject. "You talked about a lot of things. I'm guessing you're a real history buff. It was almost like you were talking about people you know." She shook her head. "Your friend – Bogg? – sounds like a real ladies' man. When he wasn't trying to leave the bed to look for you, he rambled on about one woman after the other."

Jeffrey laughed. "That's Bogg," he said. "He's a good guy, though. We're family."

"I can tell he cares about you. You're lucky." Rebecca leaned in and looked closely at Jeff's face. "I think you've been up enough for one day. Rest here for a few minutes. I'll put clean sheets on the bed and find something less menthol smelling for you to sleep in. Lucky for you I shop at all the finest Goodwill stores."

She went into the bedroom only to come right back out again. "He's waking up, and he's looking for you." Slowly they walked to the bedroom, Jeffrey's arm around Rebecca's shoulders and her arm around his waist. Rebecca sat Jeff down by Bogg's side and started stripping the sheets from his bed. Jeff took Bogg's hand.

"Jeffrey?" Bogg's voice rasped. His eyes opened slowly. "You okay?" Jeffrey nodded. "Good," he sighed. "Don't scare me like that again. Ever." Jeffrey nodded again and gently leaned over the older man to give him a hug. Bogg's arm tightened around him, then gradually relaxed. His eyes closed, and he fell back asleep.


	4. Leaving Lawrence

It was a few days before Bogg felt well enough to get out of bed for longer than a few minutes at a time. Mostly he slept, making sure each time he awoke that Jeffrey was still there, that the memory of seeing him sitting on the bed wasn't just a fever dream. Jeff teased him about it. "Bogg, I'm fine, and I'm not going anywhere. Stop worrying."

Finally, he woke one morning feeling more like himself than he had in a long time. He crept out of the bedroom so as not to wake Jeffrey and looked out into the apartment's main room. It was empty. The only indications someone had been there recently were a plate and glass next to the sink and a pillow and blanket on the couch. The girl – Rebecca, Jeffrey had said her name was – had apparently gone out. He looked out the window past the rusted-out fire escape to the street below. The neighborhood looked like it has once been a successful shopping district that had fallen on hard times. Burned out storefronts peppered the street, and the few stores that were open appeared to have empty apartments over them. Phineas turned away from the window, went to the bathroom, and got cleaned up, putting on his own clothes. Like Jeff's they had been at the foot of the bed and, also like Jeff's, had been washed. When he emerged from the cloud of steam, the girl had returned.

She was at the kitchen table kneading dough, a laundry basket on the floor nearby. She looked exhausted, and Bogg felt a twinge of guilt for all they had put upon her. "Can I help with anything?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. This is just about ready for the first rise." She looked toward the bedroom. "Is Jeff up yet?"

"No," he answered, wondering if he should be more worried that Jeff wasn't yet awake or that the two of them seemed so friendly. He watched as she put the dough in a large bowl, covered it with a towel, then went to the sink to wash her hands. As she moved to the couch, he picked up the laundry basket and followed her. A memory rushed to the front of his mind. "Bat's breath," he muttered to himself. Then he addressed the girl. "I'm sorry about your coffee table," he said. "It was an accident," he finished lamely.

"It's okay," she replied, taking the basket from him and starting to fold the laundry, mostly sheets. "The state you two were in, I'm amazed there wasn't more damage."

Phineas picked up a pillowcase and started to fold it. "Jeff tells me you're Rebecca."

"That's me," she said. "Rebecca Levy. He tells me you're Bogg."

"Phineas," he said, placing the pillowcase on the couch and grabbing another. "Bogg is my last name." He paused for a moment, waiting to speak until he knew he had the words right. "Thank you," he finally said. "You saved Jeff's life. I couldn't have taken care of him. If anything had happened to him, I..." he trailed off, not even wanting to consider what could have happened.

Rebecca shook her head. "I know what it's like to lose the most important person in your world." Her eyes started to shine, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded rougher. "I'm glad I was able to help you keep yours." At that moment, the bedroom door creaked, and Jeff came out, fully dressed. "Do I smell bread?" he asked hopefully.

Rebecca broke off the gaze she and Phineas were sharing. "I'm making challah for Shabbat." She shook out a towel then turned towards the window as more fire engines raced by the building.

"What's with all the sirens?" Bogg asked.

"Yeah," Jeffrey chimed in, "I grew up in New York City, and I don't think I've ever seen this many firetrucks before in my life. What gives?"

Rebecca shook her head and let out a sigh. "Lawrence has a bit of an arson problem." She put down the towel and rubbed her forehead. "Is the aspirin still in the bedroom? I've got a headache." She walked off to go find it.

"A bit of an arson problem?" Phineas said. "With that many sirens? That's like saying Pompeii had a slight problem with ash." He turned to Jeffrey. "Hey, while she's gone. Lawrence, where? When is it?"

Jeff pulled the omni from his front pocket and opened it. "Lawrence, Massachusetts. May 8, 1970. Red light." He handed the omni to Phineas who stashed it in its usual place. "And before you ask, I have no idea why." He thought for a moment. "The only thing I know about Lawrence is its mill history. The towns around here were all textile mills in the late 1800s; Lowell was another one. In 1912, there was a big strike here, the Bread and Roses strike. It ended peacefully with the workers getting a lot of concessions from the mill owners." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe we're supposed to stop the arson fires?"

"The bottle's empty," Rebecca said as she walked back in the room. "I'll have to put it on the shopping list." She rubbed her head again.

The rest of the day passed quietly. Rebecca gave Jeff a lesson in braiding challah, then made him smile by showing him her book collection. Bogg went for a short walk outside to see if he could find clues to the red light and returned to find both teenagers asleep on the couch, their books open on their laps. As the sun set, Rebecca lit candles and said the prayers that brought in the Sabbath. After dinner they watched the candles burn down, then Phineas convinced Jeffrey to turn in early. "Rebecca looks like she still has a headache," he whispered to the boy, "and I don't imagine she's gotten much sleep the last two weeks taking care of us." Jeff nodded, and they said goodnight.

Once in the bedroom, Jeffrey sat down to to read his book, but Phineas put his hand over the page. "Kid, I need to ask you a question," he said. "She just showed you the bookshelf today, right? " Jeff nodded. "So...," Phineas looked down at the bedclothes "just what **have** the two of you been doing for the last couple days while I've been sleeping?"

"What?" Jeff's face mirrored the shock and outrage in his voice. "Bogg, she's older than I am! And her grandmother just died!" He pulled the book out from under Bogg's hand. "I can't believe you'd even think that! All we did was talk!" Jeff was angry now. "Just because **you** have a girl in every time zone..."

"Okay, Okay! I'm sorry!" Phineas said, relieved at Jeffrey's indignation. Then something tugged at him mind – Rebecca's understanding of what it would have meant if he'd lost Jeff. "Wait. Her grandmother just died?"

Jeff glared at him. "Yeah. Her folks died when she was a baby, and her grandmother raised her. She dropped out of school a year or so back to take care of her. She'd been back from the funeral for something like thirty seconds before we dropped in," he said, calming down somewhat. "She's spent all her time since then taking care of us. It's been kind of nice having someone close to my own age to talk to." Bogg heard the wistful tone in Jeff's voice and felt a momentary pang of guilt. "We spent most of our time in here, talking and watching you sleep," Jeff continued. He paused and thought for a moment. "I wonder if that's what the red light is."

Phineas cocked his head to the side. "You lost me, kid. If what's what the red light is?"

"Us," Jeff replied. "For all we know this was a green light zone until we dropped in with the Spanish Flu. It's not like either of us was in any condition to check when we got here." He looked troubled. "Bogg, what if we brought a pandemic into the future?"

Phineas thought for a moment. "Well, the only person we've had contact with so far is Rebecca, and aside from some exhaustion, she seems fine so far." He rubbed his chin. "I think I'm too tired to deal with this right now. I'm going to turn in." He sat down on his bed. "Don't stay up too late reading." He stopped for a moment and looked Jeffrey in the eyes. "And, Jeff. I'm sorry, but I had to ask." Jeffrey nodded at him and picked up his book. Phineas lay down and fell asleep almost immediately.

o-o-o-o-o

Several hours later, Bogg sat up coughing, unsure of what had woken him up. Something wasn't right. His eyes were stinging, and his brain felt woolly. He smelled smoke. Within seconds, he was fully awake, jumping off the bed and shaking Jeff awake. "Jeff! Jeff! Get up now!"

Jeff groggily turned over. "It's not morning yet, is it?"

Phineas grabbed him by the shoulders. "I think the building's on fire. Get up now!"

Jeffrey sat bolt upright. "Fire?" He jumped off the bed. "Rebecca's in the living room!" He threw the door open and ran into the main room. "Rebecca!" He reached the couch and found Rebecca stretched out in the same jeans and shirt she had been wearing earlier in the day. Smoke was starting to fill the room as he shook her by the shoulders. Phineas jerked open the door to the hall, then slammed it shut as he felt the heat emanating from the corridor. "Bogg, I can't wake her up!" Jeff shouted. "She's breathing, but she won't wake up! Help me!"

Smoke was now billowing in from under the door. Phineas unhooked the omni from his belt and made a split-second decision. "Jeff, hold on to her," he shouted. "I'm getting us out of here!" He ran over, grabbed Jeffrey's right shoulder with one hand and Rebecca's left shoulder with the other, then pressed the omni.


	5. Red Light

Clarion, PA 1836

They landed in a wooded area that appeared to be miles from anywhere. It was late afternoon. The ground was wet, it was chilly, and dark clouds were gathering overhead. Jeffrey winced as he moved a fist-sized rock out from under his left shoulder. "Bogg?" he called. "What happened?" He looked around. "Bogg?" About fifteen yards away, he saw Bogg leaning over Rebecca. Jeff jumped to his feet and sprinted over to them. "Is she breathing?"

"No." Bogg's voice sounded strained. "I'm not sure if it's the smoke or if the landing knocked the wind out of her."

Jeff skidded to stop next to them, then knelt down and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Performing it on Clara Barton had been an exciting part of his job as a Voyager; with Rebecca it felt more urgent. Finally, she coughed and shifted beneath him. He sighed with relief as he realized she was still alive.

"What happened?" she asked feebly. Smoke leaked from her mouth as she coughed and tried to sit up. Jeff and Bogg looked at each other over her head. "There was a fire," Jeff answered. "Bogg got us out."

"Don't talk right now," Bogg said to her. "Just rest. You got the worst of it." She nodded and leaned against Jeff. Jeff could feel her shaking.

"Bogg," he said to his partner, "we've got to find some shelter. It looks like it's going to storm." He eyed the clouds overhead. "Again. My knees are soaked. Can't we just omni back out?" Jeff watched as Bogg pulled out the omni and opened it. He was frowning slightly. "It's a red light, isn't it?" Jeff asked. When Bogg nodded, he said. "Great. So where are we?"

"Clarion, Pennsylvania," Bogg answered quietly. "November 18, 1836. Ring any bells?" Jeff shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rebecca staring at them.

"Jeff, wh-where are we?" Rebecca's voice was shaking and her teeth were starting to chatter. "1836? What's g-going on?" Her shivering grew stronger.

"Bogg," Jeff felt worried, and he knew it came out in his voice. He put an arm around Rebecca's shoulder. The skin on her arm was cold. "We've got to get her warm. With this storm coming, we need shelter."

Bogg nodded. "I'll see what I can find." He looked down at the shivering girl, then back at Jeff. "Keep her talking," he said quietly. "If she starts going into shock, you'll need to elevate her legs and keep her as warm as you can." Jeff watched as Bogg removed his vest and wrapped it around Rebecca's torso. Then Bogg put his hand under her chin and lifted her face so she could see his eyes. "Rebecca, I'm going to find us some shelter. Jeff's going to stay with you while I'm gone. I need you to stay awake and talk to him. Can you do that?" She nodded, but her eyes had a faraway look to them. "I'll be back as fast as I can."

Jeff had never felt time move more slowly. Talking to Rebecca while she nursed Bogg had been easy. Now that he needed to keep her talking and alert, his mind went blank. He could feel Rebecca's shaking grow more pronounced and her skin grow colder. He took his arm from around her shoulders and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms. As her responses to his questions became fainter and her eyes started losing focus, his fear of failing her increased.

Bogg returned just as the sun was setting and the wind was picking up. "I found a cabin," he said. "It's about a mile away. I didn't get close enough to see if it was occupied." Relief washed over Jeff like a blanket. He had been terrified of what might happen when darkness fell and the temperature dropped even more. Bogg knelt down and held out his arms for Rebecca. Jeff helped Bogg pick her up, then he stood up and stretched. He watched as Bogg gently shifted Rebecca so her knees were above her heart and then looked in her eyes. "Rebecca, what was your grandmother's name?" he asked her.

"What?" Her response was barely audible.

"Your grandmother," Bogg repeated firmly. "What was her name?"

"Esther," she whispered. "Esther Louise."

"Good," said Bogg, encouraging her. "What about your grandfather? What was his name? Did you know him?"

"Henry Elijah." Her voice was still soft but sounded more alert. "He died when I was little. I don't remember him much. Just Gran."

Jeff listened, fascinated, as Bogg asked Rebecca question after question about her grandmother, her life in Lawrence, and her religion. All of his questions required more than a 'yes' or 'no' answer but none needed long explanations. Jeff knew Bogg was keeping Rebecca focused and awake and was again amazed at his partner's field skills. As they approached the log cabin Bogg had found, he suddenly felt exhausted and remembered with a start that both he and Bogg had been sick until very recently. He could tell Bogg was tiring as well, but, Jeff noticed, his steps didn't falter and his arms continued holding Rebecca tightly.

As they got closer to the cabin, Jeff heard Bogg's sharp intake of breath. "Candles," he said. "There's someone there." Two candles burned in the small window at the front of the house.

"Jews," Rebecca whispered. "Sabbath candles in the window. Not on a table inside. So people can see." She let out a breath, her eyes closed, and her head fell back on Bogg's shoulder.

Jeff ran to the door, knocking until someone answered. An older woman opened the door and looked out in surprise. "Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you on the Sabbath, but please, my... cousin's not well. She needs shelter."

The woman's eyes widened. "You are Jews?" Her voice was soft, and she spoke with a German accent.

"My cousin is," Jeff replied. "Please, ma'am. There was a fire. We need to get her warm." The older woman responded to the urgency in his voice, her eyes softening as they fell on Bogg carrying Rebecca towards the doorway. "Of course," she said. "Bring her close to the fire." The cabin had one main room and a bedroom at the back, much like Rebecca's apartment, Jeff noticed. The woman placed her hand on Rebecca's forehead, her face showing shock at how cold the girl's skin was, then turned to Jeffrey. "Go to the chest in the bedroom and get as many blankets as you can carry. I will make her a bed by the hearth. It will warm her up more quickly."

Jeff was concerned that Rebecca didn't wake up while she was being wrapped up in blankets but assumed exhaustion had caught up with her. Once Rebecca had been seen to, Frau Heller introduced herself and got bowls of stew from a pot over the fire for Jeff and Bogg. As they ate, Bogg told her they were travelers, Jeff being his son and Rebecca his niece.

Frau Heller explained her surprise in finding them at her door. It had stemmed from them not being her son whom she had expected home earlier that day. "He went to Cleveland to trade for goods," she said. "He has been gone for a week. I was hoping he would be home for Shabbos." She refilled their bowls and looked at both of them. "For your sakes, I am glad I did not go with him this time and could be here for you. A fire," she tutted. "How terrible for you, but you are safe now, Baruch Ha-Shem. In the morning, when the storm has passed, you can go see if anything can be saved from your wagon." Jeff exchanged a look with Bogg, and they both nodded.

As they ate, Frau Heller watched them trying not to fall asleep at the table. "You will take the beds and sleep," she told them. "I can see you both have been ill not that long ago." She laughed at the shock on their faces, then shrugged her shoulders. "I am a mother," she said. "I see things such as that. You go. I will watch your niece."

They thanked her and stumbled into the bedroom. As they got settled, Jeffrey could hear the wind rising and heavy rain starting to fall. He lay down on the bed closest to the door, heard Bogg tell him "Good night," and fell asleep as soon as his head reached the pillow.


	6. Green Light

Bogg woke the next morning to Frau Heller's hand shaking his shoulder. Once she was sure he was awake, she put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to follow her to the main room.

"Herr Bogg," she said quietly. "I am concerned about your niece. Can you tell me about the illness you and your son had?"

Phineas felt his heart sink. "We had high fevers. Jeffrey had a bad cough." He paused to think. "I remember being dizzy... then I don't remember anything else until waking up and finding Jeff was okay." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. Rebecca is probably the only one who could describe our symptoms." He tried to read Frau Heller's expression. "Is she all right?"

Frau Heller frowned slightly, wrinkles creasing her forehead. "I don't know," she admitted. "It sounds as if you and Jeffrey had a bad ague. Your niece has a fever, but she breathes easily." She walked nearer to the bed of blankets, knelt down, and put her hand on Rebecca's forehead. " I have been giving her yarrow tea to bring down the fever, but I am worried that she hasn't yet awoken." She looked up into Bogg's blue eyes. "I don't want to cause Jeffrey concern," she said. "He seems very attached to his cousin."

"He is, " Bogg agreed. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Is there anything we can do?"

Frau Heller shook her head. "For now, we must wait. I know this is hard for growing boys." She pursed her lips. "Perhaps after he wakes you should go see what has become of your horse and what can be saved from your wagon. That will keep him occupied."

Phineas nodded rather than explain there was no wagon. "On our way back, we can gather more firewood." He indicated the shrinking pile of logs by the hearth. "It would be a way to repay your kindness, and with that storm last night, I'm guessing a lot of branches came down. We can check the roof for you, too."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "My son, Josef, is a carpenter. I am sure the roof is fine, but it is better to be certain."

While Jeff was eating breakfast – "Challah!" he exclaimed. "I love challah!" – Bogg pulled branches from the cabin's roof. When he finished breaking and stacking them, he went back inside and complimented Frau Heller on the cabin's construction. She beamed and pointed out pieces of furniture around the cabin Josef had made. "His father, may his name be a blessing, taught him. Josef is very skilled."

As they left the cabin, Jeff asked about Rebecca. "Bogg, is she okay? She's barely moving. I tried to ask Frau Heller, but she wouldn't tell me anything." Phineas could hear the frustration and concern in Jeff's tone. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?" Jeff's voice got louder, and he kicked a rock into the path ahead of them.

"Jeff, calm down," Bogg said, putting his hand on the teenager's shoulder. "We don't what's going on. We're guessing." He tried to make his voice sound lighter than he felt. "Rebecca was exhausted, her lungs got filled with smoke, and then we dumped her into a cold and wet November afternoon. She needs time to recover." He studiously avoided mention what Frau Heller had said about a fever; he never lied to Jeff, but he felt not telling the entire truth might be better at this moment.

Jeffrey shook Bogg's hand off and fiercely kicked the rock into the forest. Inwardly, Bogg groaned. Generally, Jeffrey as an adolescent wasn't too different than Jeff as a boy. With the teenage years came occasional moodiness, periodic flashes of anger, and a constant, enormous appetite. It looked like the anger was making an appearance now. "Look, kid," he said, "as long as Frau Heller thinks we're out here salvaging our wagon and trying to find our horses, we should work on this red light."

Jeff stopped and looked at Bogg, his expression contrite. "I know," he said. "That's part of the problem. I'm worried, and I have absolutely no idea what we're doing here!" He snorted, turned away, and attacked another rock with his shoe." "Some guidebook I am." Bitterness dripped from his voice.

"Hey," Phineas grabbed Jeff's shoulders and turned him around so he could see Jeff's face. "Kid, you're a great guidebook. The trouble is not all history is big. Sometimes it's the small things that need a push. You can't know everything."

"I guess," Jeffrey responded, not sounding convinced. He kicked the rock again, but most of the ferocity had gone out of the movement. They walked deeper into the woods stopping periodically to examine trees that had fallen in the storm. Without warning, Jeffrey came to a halt, causing Phineas to crash into his back. "What's the big idea, kid?" Bogg grumbled.

Jeff held up a hand. "Wait." He paused, listening. "Did you hear something? It sounded like a horse." Bogg shook his head. "It's over that way."

"Okay, so we go that way," Bogg said. "I'll go first just in case." The horse neighed again. This time Phineas heard it as well.

They moved through the woods as quickly and quietly as they could. Jeff tripped over a tree root and would have fallen if Phineas hadn't turned and caught him. Jeff responded to his "All right, kid?" with a curt not. Bogg could tell the anger was resurfacing but pushed aside worrying about it. If the noises ahead had anything to do with the red light, one of them had to have his head in the game. They walked several hundred more yards, the horse sounding closer as they went, until they found the way blocked by a large, splintered tree. Bogg could hear the horse breathing and then, for the first time, another sound – a man groaning.

"Bat's breath!" He turned to Jeff. "There's someone under there!"

Jeffrey kicked into work mode. "Okay, how do we get him out?" Bogg watched his eyes go vague for a moment as he thought. Then Jeff snapped his fingers. "If there's a horse, there might be a wagon or some tools." He raised his voice. "Mister! We're going to get you out. Hang on!"

It took another few minutes to get around the tree. Once there they found the horse unharmed and harnessed to a simple wagon laden with boxes and sacks. The man's groans punctuated the air. Phineas located a rope under the plank seat, then tied one end to the tree and the other to the wagon. "Jeff, have you got him?"

Jeffrey's voice came somewhere from the middle of the tree. "He's banged up a bit, but he seems okay. He's pinned down by the trunk." Bogg heard some branches snap. "If you can swing it to the left, I can pull him out."

"On the count of three." Bogg grabbed the reins. "One... Two... Three!" He urged the horse forward. "Tell me when," he called.

"Just a little more," Jeff panted. "I've got him!" There was triumph and relief in his voice.

As Phineas checked the man for broken bones, Jeff cleaned some of the dirt and mud from his face and clothes. As the man's eyes opened, Bogg realized he was seeing Frau Heller's eyes. "Josef," he said gently, "are you all right?"

Josef Heller started and winced with pain. "How do you know my name?" he asked, the German accent less pronounced in his voice than in his mother's.

Jeff looked down at him. "Long story," he answered. "We can fill you in on the way back to the cabin."

Phineas and Jeffrey rearranged the contents of the wagon to better accommodate Josef, got him in and comfortable, then Bogg took the reins. Jeff sat in the back with Josef, introducing them and explaining their presence. Bogg concentrated on driving over as few bumps or ruts as possible. He was pleased Jeff was acting more like himself but was concerned how often the boy's temper was flaring up. He tried to remember if his own temper had been as unpredictable at Jeffrey's age but couldn't. _Too long ago_, he thought. _I just don't know what to do._

Once they got Josef settled in the cabin and unloaded the wagon, Jeff went over to the hearth to sit by Rebecca. Bogg watched him touch her hand and jump when he felt how hot it was. Bogg knew an argument would be coming. To distract himself, he pulled out the omni to check its status. As he suspected, the light was now solid green. He snapped it shut and tucked it away wondering how to tell Jeff it was time to leave.

Josef's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Herr Bogg?"

Phineas flashed a brief smile. "Phineas," he said. "Herr Bogg makes me feel like you're talking to my father."

Josef returned the smile. "Phineas," he agreed. "My mother tells me you and your son are traveling for work?" Bogg tipped his head to the side, noncommittally. "Waiting for your niece to recover may cost you work, yes?" This time Bogg nodded. "I have a proposal for you." Bogg looked up as Jeff, perhaps a little too casually, made his way over to them. "You rescued me, possibly saved my life, today. Mother and I would like to repay you by caring for your niece."

Phineas hadn't expected this, and he saw Jeffrey's eyes widen in alarm. "Please hear me out," Josef continued. "You can go on to your work, and if your Rebecca rec..." Bogg felt Jeffrey stiffen. Josef also noticed and started again. "**When **she is recovered, if you have not yet returned, I will escort her to Cleveland to find you."

"That's very kind," Phineas said slowly. He looked at Jeffrey, who was avoiding his eyes. "We do have work that needs to be done. I think we'll take you up on this. I know you'll take good care of her."

"As if she were our own, Herr Bogg." Frau Heller came up behind Josef and put a hand on her son's shoulder.

Bogg declined offers of staying one more night or supplies. He found Jeffrey sitting at the hearth holding Rebecca's hand, whispering something to her. He put his own hand on Jeff's shoulder, and said, "Come on, kid. We've got work to do."

Once out of view of the cabin, Jeff turned to Bogg with his hand out and an expectant look on his face. "Okay," he said, "so, back to 1970 for some medicine, then we can omni back here and say we've changed our minds."

"We can't do that, Jeff," Bogg said slowly, knowing the pain he would be causing. "We can't bring medicine here from the future. It could alter the time line."

"And bringing Rebecca here didn't alter it?" Jeff asked incredulously, a definite edge in his voice.

Phineas sighed, hating having to do this. "Apparently not enough to cause problems," he said as gently as he could. He brought out the omni and opened it. "Green light, kid. We have to go."

Jeffrey's entire body stiffened. "I'm not leaving her here. I promised her." His voice was tight. "Bogg without medicine, she could die." He held out his right hand, the left one clenching into a fist. "Give me the omni, Bogg. If you won't go, I will.

Phineas shook his head. "No. We don't separate. Too many things can go wrong." He tightened his grip on the omni. "Jeff, it's against the Code to bring medicine back to her. You know this."

"And the Code's all right with leaving her here?" Jeffrey was yelling now, fury in his voice.

"Sometimes kids get picked up. We get them as close to their own time as we can and make sure they're taken care of. The Hellers will take care of her." Bogg leaned in to comfort Jeff and was shocked when the teenager pushed him away.

"I don't care about the code!" Jeff shouted. "She saved our lives. I'm not abandoning her!" He reached for the omni in Bogg's hand.

Surprised, Phineas stepped back. "Jeff, what's wrong with you?" Surprise turned to shock as Jeffrey grabbed his arm and tried to wrestle the omni away. "Jeffrey, stop it!" Bogg attempted to keep the omni away from Jeff while trying not to hurt him. He could feel Jeff fighting him, trying to wrestle the device from his grip. Then one of Jeff's elbows landed in Bogg's stomach. The air rushed from Bogg's lungs, and he doubled over, bringing the omni in reach of Jeffrey's outstretched hand. As Jeffrey's hand closed on it, Phineas leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the boy's waist. Jeff's fingers activated the omni, and they disappeared, leaving silence behind them.


	7. Responsibility

Southampton, England 1912

Jeff landed hard in an alley. Through the sounds of the city, he heard a loud clang as the omni hit the ground near his head. His blood still boiling, Jeff scooped up the device and opened it, checking to see if he had landed in a future where he could find the medicine Rebecca needed. The blinking red light slowed him down just enough to become more aware of his surroundings. He could smell the sea and practically taste the chicken roasting at a nearby restaurant. The only incongruous sound was a light retching that didn't fit in with the noises made by the motor cars on the nearby street.

He looked around for the source of the sound, eyes widening when he found it. Behind a crate, Bogg lay on the ground doubled up and gasping for breath. The anger in Jeff's brain subsided just enough to process what he was seeing. Then the memory hit him like a ton of bricks. He had hit Bogg, the man who had cared for and protected him for nearly five years, his only family. Bogg was hurt, and it was his fault. His hand slackened, and the omni hit the ground with another ringing clang. Jeff sank to his knees, horror-struck at what he had done.

"Doesn't... need... more... dents, " Bogg gasped.

"Bogg!" Jeff pushed the crate aside. The searing anger he had felt just minutes ago vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Jeff shaky and filled with guilt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... Are you hurt?"

"If... I say no... you gonna... hit me... again?" Bogg wheezed as he struggled to sit up. Jeff felt the blood drain from his face. Bogg hadn't sounded so cold, so distant, since their first Voyage when he'd wanted to leave Jeffrey in WWI France. Once Bogg got his back against the alley wall, he held out his hand. "Give me... the omni." There was no questioning this was an order. Jeff picked it up and wordlessly handed the device over. Once Bogg had it safely closed in his fist, he gestured for Jeff to sit. Jeff crawled over to the wall and leaned against it, waiting for Bogg to get his breathing under control and then for the yelling to start. This time he wouldn't argue; he knew he deserved it. Finally, Bogg was able to take a breath that didn't end in a cough. Jeff waited a full five minutes before anything was said, then what came out of Bogg's mouth surprised him. "Jeffrey," Bogg's voice was level, "what happened back there?"

Jeff looked down at his hands. The calm question was worse than angry shouting. He wanted Bogg to yell at him so he could scream back, so he could get rid of the anger and fear he felt. "I don't know," he replied in a small voice. "I just... I lost it." He shook his head, feeling tears forming in his eyes. "I don't know what happened."

He raised his head to find Bogg examining him carefully. Then Bogg lowered his gaze to the omni and opened it. "Southampton, England, April 8, 1912." Bogg's forehead wrinkled as he thought. "Why is that date familiar?"

Jeff groaned. "The Titanic. It's a few days before the Titanic's maiden voyage. I don't think I can deal with this. Not right now."

"Jeff," Bogg said gently, "we don't get to choose. We go where we're sent, and we fix what needs to be fixed. That's the job." Bogg leaned his head back against the alley wall. "Most of the time it's exciting. We get to meet people from all over the world and help keep history moving in the right direction. " He snapped the omni shut. "The flip side is the bad stuff we're not allowed to change – the Holocaust, the Trail of Tears, the Titanic."

"And the people we can't save," Jeff said. He looked up Bogg, despair filling his eyes. "How can you do this year after year? We've been shot at, blown up, buried alive..." His voice trailed off. "Bogg, I don't think I can do this anymore."

"Okay," Bogg said slowly. "If you don't think you can handle being a Voyager right now you have two options." Bogg's voice was firm but compassionate. He waited to be sure he had Jeff's full attention before continuing. "I can bring you some place, some time zone, that's safe and leave you until you're older and ready for the academy. Or, you could change your mind. You could decide you don't want to be a Voyager."

"What would happen then?" Jeff asked, puzzled by the finality in Bogg's tone.

The answer was blunt. "Your memory would get wiped." Bogg said. Jeff was stunned. "You were eleven when you left 1982, so they'd probably arrange it to look like you were kidnapped or something to explain why you've been gone so long. Maybe stage some kind of accident to account for the gap in your memory. Then they would find your Aunt Elizabeth and send you back to her." Bogg's voice sounded flat, and Jeff could tell he was working hard to keep the emotion out of it.

"What would you do?" Jeff asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"My job," Bogg answered. "I'd miss you. More than I even want to consider, but I'm a Voyager. It's my responsibility to make sure history stays on track." Bogg put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "Jeffrey, I know leaving Rebecca was hard, but it was what we had to do. We had a green light. It was time to go. We couldn't have brought her with us with that fever. She could have died, or if we did give her the Spanish Flu, we would have been carrying it to other time zones. By leaving her in Clarion we know she's safe and being cared for by good people." He sighed. "Sometimes being responsible means doing things you don't want to. Or that hurt. Sometimes a lot. But you do them anyway because you have to. Because they're what's right." Jeff saw a flash of pain cross Bogg's face. "And since I'm also responsible for you, I'll make sure you get back to your time if that's what you decide."

A shadow moved at the end of the alley. Jeff looked up and saw a man in an expensive looking suit and hat staring down at them. "I don't pretend to understand all of that," he said, smoothing his mustache, "and I don't mean to interrupt, but you really should listen to your father, young man. He's very wise." The man pulled a thin silver case from the breast pocket of his suit coat, opened it, and extracted a card. " I could use men with your wisdom in my company. If you ever find yourself in New York City and in need of a job, look me up, Mister..." He looked at them with raised eyebrows.

"Bogg. Phineas Bogg." He gestured to Jeffrey. "This is my son, Jeffrey." They stood and shook hands with the man. "And you are?"

"Alfred Vanderbilt," the man replied, handing Bogg the card.

Jeffrey's mouth dropped open. "The son of Cornelius Vanderbilt?" The man nodded. "I've seen your family's summer home, sir. It's amazing."

Vanderbilt smiled. "Next time you and your father are in Newport, stop by, and I'll see you get a private tour." He tucked the silver case back in his pocket. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to stop eavesdropping and go take care of **my** responsibilities. Thank you for reminding of that." He lifted his hat to them, then turned and left. Jeff watched him walk away.

Bogg tapped Jeff on the shoulder. "I'm sure if I wait a moment or two you'll explain what just happened," he said, indicating Vanderbilt's retreating form. "What's so special about a house anyway?"

"It's not just a house," Jeff murmured. "You have to see it to understand." He pointed to the omni. "Check it. I bet it's green now."

Bogg flipped the device open and Jeff saw the solid green light. "How did you know?" Bogg asked.

"My folks took me to the Breakers when I was about eight," Jeff responded, looking inward at the memory. "The tour guide told us Alfred Vanderbilt was a hero. He was supposed to sail on the Titanic but canceled his trip at the last minute."

"Sounds sensible to me, given what happened to it," said Bogg. "But how does that make him a hero?"

"He ended up on the Lusitania in 1915," Jeff explained, now back in the present. "After the Germans torpedoed the ship, he and his valet helped other passengers get onto the lifeboats. The guide said he even gave away his own life jacket to a woman with a baby even though he couldn't swim. He died when the ship sank."

Bogg whistled. "That's a hero." He put an arm around Jeff's shoulders. "Look, kid, you've had a rough couple weeks. You don't need to make a decision right now. You know what your options are, and I want you to weigh them carefully. When you've decided you can let me know."

Jeff nodded. "Thanks, Bogg, and I really am sorry."

"I know," Bogg rubbed his stomach gently. "I was a teenager once, too. It's hard. All those emotions, and nowhere to put them." He moved his hand to Jeff's head and patted it. "Look, we couldn't bring Rebecca with us, but if you want, we can go check on her. With that fire, I don't think we can take her back to her apartment, but if she's better, maybe we can at least get her some place with indoor plumbing."

"I'd like that." Jeff looked up Bogg. "Thank you."

Bogg opened the omni and started setting it. "I'll aim for a month or so out," he said. "That should give her time to recover and make it look like we actually left and came back." He squinted at the omni. "That's strange. Some of the dates are locked. I'll get us as close as I can."

Jeff grabbed hold of Bogg's arm, and they disappeared.


	8. Another Sabbath

Clarion, PA

The snowbank was cold but at least provided a soft landing, Bogg thought. _And right now we deserve a soft landing._ It was night and the dark clouds drifting across the full moon left almost no light. Phineas shifted the omni from hand to hand, changing its angle in an attempt to read the dial.

"January, 8," he read, squinting at the device. "That's all I can make out. I **think** we're in Clarion."

"Are you sure?" Jeffrey asked. He sounded subdued and a little depressed.

Bogg resisted the urge to snap back. "No," he said, keeping his voice as calm as possible. He knew Jeff was still very upset and didn't want to set him off again. The teen had decisions to make, and Phineas wanted him to have a clear head while he was considering his options. "Once some of those clouds move, we'll have more luck," he said in the same calm manner. He could feel rather than see Jeff's nod of agreement.

Finally the clouds thinned enough so the ground below them became visible and they could move. Phineas checked the omni again. "Still too dark" he muttered, frustrated at the lack of information.

They walked along in what he felt was an uncomfortable silence until Jeff reached out and grabbed his arm. "Bogg, do you see something?" Without waiting for an answer, Jeff continued. "I think the trees are thinning out." He gestured off to the right. "Let's go this way," he said, his voice sounding more alert than before.

After a few more minutes, Jeff stopped again. "Bogg, look. A house." A short distance away, Phineas could make out the outline of a cabin with two pinpricks of light at the front. "Sabbath candles in the window," Jeff said, sounding more excited. "We're here!" He started running.

"Jeff!" Bogg shouted. "Hold up! We need to be sure!" As he held up the omni again, the moon finally broke through the clouds. "Jeffrey, wait!" But he knew the boy wouldn't stop. Quickly, he scanned the dial's face. "Clarion, Pennsylvania. Friday, January 8... 1841." Phineas could feel the blood drain from his face. _The blocked dates. Bat's breath! It didn't block a few weeks. It blocked four years._ Bogg started running. "Jeffrey! No!"

It was too late. Jeff had reached the cabin's door and was pounding on it, joyously shouting Rebecca's name. Just as Phineas came up behind him, the door opened, and Jeffrey's shout died on his lips. Rebecca stood in the doorway.

Bogg could see her over Jeff's shoulder. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a shawl. A long plait of hair hung down her left shoulder. As a smile lit up her expression, he could see that the planes of her face were sharper. She was an inch or so taller than before and could now just about look Jeffrey right in the eyes. A thin gold band on the first finger of her right hand glinted in the moonlight, and her left rested on her stomach just above her waist. With a start, Phineas realized she was pregnant. The slump of Jeffrey's shoulders told him more clearly than words that Jeff had seen the same changes.

"No." Jeff took a shocked step backwards. "I failed. I promised to come back, and I failed." The smile faded from Rebecca's face. Jeff's shoulders started to shake, and he brought his hands up to his face. "You were sick, and I left. I didn't leave you any way out. This is all my fault." He voice broke on the last word.

Phineas started towards Jeffrey, but Rebecca got there first. She tried to put her arms around him, but he pulled away.

"Jeffrey, no. Don't say that." She pulled Jeff's hands down and held them in her own, but he still wouldn't look at her. "You didn't fail. I chose this." She twisted her body slightly so she could see his face. "When you and Phineas appeared in my apartment, I could have called the police. I chose to take care of you instead, and when I recovered Josef offered to take me to Cleveland to find you. I knew you wouldn't be there," Jeff raised his head at this. "I could have gone anyway and started a new life." Jeffrey tried to speak, but Rebecca gently placed the fingertips of her right hand over his mouth. "You need to listen," she said. He simply looked at her.

"When Josef asked me to marry him, I could have told him 'no.' I didn't want to do that." Bogg could see a faint blush cover Rebecca's cheeks. "I chose to become his wife knowing exactly what it would mean." She moved her hand from Jeffrey's lips to his his cheek. "Jeff, I would have died in that fire." Bogg could see Jeffrey flinch at her words. "You and Phineas saved my life. **Because **you brought me here I **had** choices. You gave me that. You gave me... everything." Rebecca's eyes were shining. "I'm just glad you're here now. I never got to say thank you."

Jeffrey stifled a sob. He nodded once and grabbed Rebecca in a fierce hug. Phineas felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. "Do you love him?" he heard Jeffrey whisper. Rebecca nodded into his shoulder then broke the hug, a small smile on her lips. "Thanks so much for assuming I married for convenience," she said swatting his shoulder lightly, but Bogg could see tear tracks on her face.

As she walked by them to shut the door, Jeff flashed a look at Bogg. "I had to ask," he said with a wry smile. Bogg smiled back, noting with relief that Jeff looked more relaxed, more like himself, than he had for a while.

They sat at the table, and Rebecca dished them up some stew. Phineas took the bowl gratefully, ate a few mouthfuls, then asked, "How did you know you wouldn't find us in Cleveland?"

"Because it was 1836," she answered. "I heard you say that in the woods, and it stuck." She sat down on the bench next to Jeffrey. "You should eat that. I didn't make it so it's good." At his questioning look, she shrugged her shoulders. "I still can't cook well over a fire. Josef says after the baby comes, he'll get a cookstove. They're getting more common now."

Phineas cleared his throat. "Rebecca. Cleveland?"

"Oh, sorry," she said. "Well, once I felt better and became aware of my surroundings, I realized nothing was familiar." A sad smile crossed her face. "Mother and Josef thought my memory had been damaged by my illness. I didn't know how to do anything useful – cooking, cleaning, sewing – and had no idea exactly where I was. It also took me a while to realize that they meant the two of you when they were talking about my uncle and cousin." She sighed. "It's actually been a blessing. I can tell them certain things about my past, and they assume those are the only things I remember. I don't have to lie to them." She got up, poured a mug of water from a pitcher, and took a drink. "Anyway, I did some deductive reasoning and came up with two options. Either I was crazy, or you were time travelers."

"Voyagers." Bogg and Jeff corrected her at the same time.

"Right," she said, putting the mug down on the table and sitting down again. "Time travel was the more attractive option." She raised one eyebrow at Jeff. "It also explained how you got in my locked apartment since we never got around to having that conversation."

Jeff looked down into his bowl of stew. "Well, it's not the kind of thing we can go around shouting. People try to burn you at the stake."

Rebecca looked startled. "Really? Has that happened to you?"

"Once. Almost," Jeff said. "And just Bogg."

Phineas cleared his throat. "Rebecca, where are Frau Heller and Josef?" he asked, trying to get their attention back. "If they come home now and see us..."

Rebecca shook her head. "I'm not expecting them back until tomorrow after sunset when Shabbat is over. The area is getting more populated, and one of the neighbors a few miles out is having a baby. Josef drove Mother to their cabin to help with the delivery." She took another drink of water. "I can't go out too much in the cold. The Spanish Flu did a number on my lungs." Bogg tilted his head at her phrasing. "Gran survived the pandemic," she said, answering his look. "I sort of knew what you had when I was nursing you, but my mind didn't want to accept it. Not until I had it myself. And before you ask, Mother and Josef didn't get sick, Baruch Ha-Shem." She yawned and stretched. "As happy as I am to see you, the baby and I need some sleep. Will you stay until tomorrow so we can talk?"

Phineas turned to Jeff to gauge his reaction to the request and saw Jeff looking back with pleading eyes. "We can stay until then," he said.

They made beds at the hearth and crept between the blankets. "Jeff, are you all right?" Bogg asked.

Jeff was staring into the fire. "I think so," he replied. "I feel really confused, and I don't know what to do. I'm glad she's okay and happy, but I still feel like I messed up, that there was something I could have done."

"You don't have to make any decisions right now, kid," Bogg said. "Let's get some sleep."

o-o-o-o-o

The morning dawned cold and clear. Phineas woke early, got the fire going, then sat to think. He wouldn't try to influence Jeff's decision in any way but hoped his partner – his kid – wouldn't choose to stop being a Voyager. _I could handle it if he decided to take a break_, he thought, _but I don't know what I'll do if he chooses to leave._ He couldn't even begin to imagine Jeffrey not being in his life. _Just like when he was sick._

His thoughts broke off when the bedroom door opened. Rebecca came out dressed in the same blue dress but with a quilt around her shoulders in place of the shawl. "It's cold in there," she said. "Is Jeff up yet?" Bogg smiled, remembering the last time she had asked that question, and shook his head. "Phineas, is he okay?" she whispered to him. "He seems quieter than I remember."

"I'm not sure," Bogg answered, also keeping his voice down. "This Voyage has been... hard on him. It really broke him up having to leave you here." He rubbed his chin. "I think seeing you has helped."

"Bogg?" Jeff's sleepy voice came from one of blanket piles. "Is it breakfast yet?"

"Just about, sleepyhead," Rebecca answered, smiling. "Get up, and I'll feed you. Again."

After breakfast, Bogg stood and cleared his throat. "Kid, it's time. We have to get going." He watched how reluctantly Jeff got up from the table, and grew concerned. To cover his feelings, he turned to Rebecca and gave her a gentle hug. "Thank you for everything. It was nice to have an evening to rest." He paused for a moment. "Are you going to tell Josef we were here?"

"I was planning on it," she responded. "He was always concerned that you two never came back. It would make them both feel better to know nothing bad happened to you." She pulled away from Bogg's arms and turned to Jeff. "I also have a favor to ask."

"What is it?" Jeff asked without much interest.

"I'd like to be able to tell them I had your blessing."

Jeff's head snapped up. "Our what?"

"Your blessing," she repeated. "On my marriage. It would mean a lot to me. You two are my only family," she said. "I want Josef to know you approved of my choice."

Phineas nodded and put his hand on her shoulder. "Of course," he said. "I hope you have a long and happy marriage and healthy children."

Rebecca's face turned back toward Jeffrey. "Jeff?"

Jeffrey spent a long minute looking at her, then, just as he had done the night before, nodded once and pulled her towards him for a hug. A look of surprise flashed across his face. "The baby kicked me!"

Rebecca smiled, pleased relief showing plainly on her face "I should have warned you. He doesn't seem to be fond of close quarters. Josef says his stomach is turning black and blue." She placed both hands on her stomach. "Or she. We'll find out some time in May."

Bogg held out one arm, and Jeff walked over to him. "Are you ready, kid?" With no hesitation this time, Jeffrey nodded. "Then let's show the lady how it's done." Bogg took out the omni and activated it. They blinked out of the cabin and into the cosmos.


	9. Medal of Honor

Columbus, OH 1892

"So, where are we?" Jeff asked as they dusted themselves off after landing in yet another alley. Bogg looked as though he was waiting for a smart-mouthed comment about the omni's choice of landing places. Jeff tried – for Bogg's sake – but couldn't make the words come out. The visit to see Rebecca has lessened the guilt he felt in leaving her, but his emotions wouldn't stop roiling.

"Jeff, are you okay?" The concern in Bogg's voice was obvious and made Jeff feel even worse. He hadn't been paying attention.

"Yeah. Why?" Bogg, standing with the omni open in his hand, looked skeptical. "I'm fine," Jeff insisted. "Really. What's the date?"

"July 29, 1892," Bogg replied. "Columbus, Ohio. Red light." He snapped the omni shut and put it away. "Any ideas?"

Jeff shook his head. "I haven't been very useful lately, have I? Maybe you **would** be better off without me." He thought he saw a fleeting flash of pain in Bogg's eyes, but when he looked again the man's face was calm. "Sorry, Bogg," he muttered. "I have no idea." He was having trouble concentrating, his mind too full of the last few days.

From the street they suddenly heard the sounds of a scuffle and punches being thrown. Jeff felt Bogg's hand on his shoulder as the older Voyager ran to help. "Stay here!" the deep voice boomed. Jeff ignored the order and followed his partner out of the alley and into the bright sunlight.

On the street corner, Jeff saw a boy not much older than himself wearing military garb and struggling with two older men. The boy was trying to protect a satchel with one arm while fighting off his attackers with the other. Without a second thought, Jeff jumped into the fray. It felt good to be able to lash out at someone, to expel the anger and sadness and self-doubt in a physical conflict. His right fist connected with one assailant's jaw. As the man stumbled backwards, the other boy stuck out a booted foot, sending the man sprawling backwards. He scrambled back to his feet and ran away down the street.

The fight was over in short order. Bogg sent the second attacker off with a few well-placed punches, and suddenly they were alone on the street with the boy. The stood for a minute catching their breath before the boy broke the silence. "I don't know where you fellers came from, but I'm glad you showed up. My captain woulda had my hide if this got nabbed," he said, patting the satchel. "It's gotta be at the state house afore noon for the ceremony."

Bogg stuck out his right hand. "We're glad we could help, Private..."

"Johnson, sir." The young soldier saluted then took Bogg's right hand and shook it. "Private Stanley Johnson."

"So, Private Johnson, what's so important about that satchel?" Bogg asked.

"You all must've just arrived today if you don't know about the ceremony," the boy said. "This here's a medal of honor. The presentation ceremony's at noon at the state house." He looked from Jeff to Bogg and back again. "Why don't you all come with me? All 'a nature's gonna be there. I'm sure no one'll notice two more. Even dressed as outlandish as you." He grinned at them.

Jeff snorted. " Bogg, come on. Didn't that solve our problem?" Now that the adrenaline rush from the fight was wearing off, all Jeff wanted to do was go somewhere quiet where he could sort out his emotions and think. He watched as Bogg checked the omni, and his face fell when Bogg shook his head. "It can't still be red," he complained. Bogg just looked at him.

Private Johnson watched the exchange with a bemused expression. "I never seen a pocket watch that fancy before. Anyway, I hafta go. Are you all coming?"

Jeff could feel himself growing sullen. He glared at Bogg who quelled the look with two words, "Red light." Bogg then turned to the soldier. "Lead on, Private."

As they walked, Bogg engaged Private Johnson in conversation, and Jeff's mind relived the last few days. He winced remembering his fight with Bogg, but the memory that replayed itself most often was of the choices Bogg had given him while they were in England - time off before entering the academy or quitting altogether. _A rest would be nice_, but it wasn't going to make him forget how awful he felt leaving Rebecca in Clarion the first time. If he chose to stop being a Voyager, he would forget the pain but would lose other memories as well – Ben Franklin's kite, Edison's first working light bulb, Harriet Tubman's bid for freedom, Bogg. _Is the trade off worth it?_ he wondered.

Jeff was so involved with his thoughts he didn't notice when they entered the state house, and Private Johnson left them. It wasn't until a loud voice started speaking that he began to grow aware of his surroundings. About a hundred people were crowded in a long room. Curtained alcoves were spread out at intervals on each side. At the front of the room stood two men, one of about thirty in the uniform of a United States Army colonel and another of about fifty in a plain dark suit who looked as if he would rather be anywhere else. The colonel was reading from a paper in his hands. Jeff strained to listen over the murmuring of the crowd.

"In the battle of Chancellorsville, he was one of a party of four under heavy fire. They voluntarily crossed the enemy lines to capture and bring back to the Union lines a wounded Confederate office from whom valuable information was obtained concerning the position of the enemy. For that action taken on the second of May, 1863 in Chancellorsville, Virginia the medal of honor is hereby awarded to Henry Heller who held the rank of sergeant in Company A of the 66th Ohio Infantry." The colonel placed the medal around the older man's neck, and saluted him. The room erupted into thunderous applause. Jeff stood silent, stunned, and shaken.

"They named him for Rebecca's grandfather," Bogg breathed. He pulled out the omni and checked the lights. "Green. I guess someone thought we needed to see this." Jeff remained frozen in place. "Jeff," Bogg said gently, "we can go now."

Jeff shook his head. "I need to see him," he said in an unsteady voice. "Please, Bogg. Just a minute."

Bogg nodded his assent, and they slowly worked their way to the front of the room where Henry Heller was having his picture taken by a news photographer. As they got closer they could hear him answering a reporter's questions.

"Yes, I was a Gettysburg. It was... indescribable." The man's eyes grew distant as he remembered. "Even after all these years I can still smell the smoke and hear the cries of the wounded and dying." He shook his head and came back to the present. "My brother, Jeffrey, lost an arm at Gettysburg." Jeff's stomach lurched. _She named one of her children after me_. "It took a while to get the news, but eventually I found he had been sent to the Cuyler Hospital in Germantown and got leave to see him." Heller smiled at this memory. "I was afraid of what I'd find, but once I got there, I knew he'd recover. I found him in a bed at one end of the ward being nursed by my sister, Essie. On the other end of the ward, I found the doctors being loudly scolded – all of them – in the most unladylike language imaginable. By my mother."

The reporter laughed. "It sounds like your mother is a woman of strong convictions."

"Yes," Heller agreed, "and an impressive vocabulary to go with them." His expression softened. "May her name be a blessing."

Jeff suddenly found breathing impossible. Henry Heller had used the same phrase regarding Rebecca that his grandmother had used when speaking of her husband, his grandfather. _But that would mean Rebecca is..._ Jeff could hear the reporter's voice continuing to ask questions, but the words were distorted as if the man was speaking from under water. The room got blurry and dark around the edges, and the floor felt as if it were sinking. He heard someone shout from very far away, "Give the boy some room!" Then he felt Bogg's arms around his chest, half-dragging and half-carrying him away from the crowd.

"Jeff. Jeffrey?" He was placed in a chair and could vaguely make out a curtain in front of him. "Bend over. Put your head down between your knees. Breathe!" It was Bogg's voice, concern coursing through every word.

Slowly things came back into focus. As Jeff sat, gaining control over his breathing, another voice broke through the fog in his brain. "Is the young man subject to these spells?" Jeff recognized the voice as Henry Heller's. He picked up his head and found the man kneeling by his chair, watching him with Rebecca's eyes. Jeff sat transfixed.

"He's had a bad shock," Bogg was saying. "He'll be fine in a few minutes. Thank you."

The man placed a hand on Jeff's shoulder, squeezed it once, and went back to the reporter. Jeff watched him walk away then felt Bogg lean over him. "Jeff?"

"I'm okay," he said weakly. "Bogg, can we go somewhere quiet? I need to think. Please?"

Bogg regarded him, locking his blue eyes onto Jeff's dark ones. Then he took out the omni and carefully set the dials. Then he put a hand on Jeff's shoulder and activated the device. A second later the chair was empty.


	10. Decision

Muir Woods, Mill Valley, CA, 1908

Phineas leaned back against one of the giant redwood trees, watched the small patches of blue sky peeking out from between the treetops, and waited for Jeff to come back from a walk. They had set up the campsite in silence and as soon as it was done, Jeff had disappeared into the woods. Bogg could tell his mind was elsewhere and wanted to give the boy some time and space to think, but he was worried. He had never seen Jeffrey like this and didn't know what to do. _I should have offered him a break at headquarters,_ he thought. _Something less permanent than leaving. Susan would be happy to have him visit for a while._ At the same time he knew time off would only postpone Jeff's decision; it wouldn't eliminate the need to decide. He sighed, stood up, and started gathering sticks for a fire.

About an hour later, the fire now blazing, Jeff returned with bark stuck in his curls and a haunted look in his eyes. It hurt Phineas to see Jeff in this much pain. "Kid, can we talk for a minute?" he asked quietly. Jeff nodded but didn't speak. "I just want you to know you're not the only one who's... who's ever considered leaving before. Not everyone can do this job. It takes a special person." He looked at the boy who had come to mean so much to him over the past few years. "I want you to know, I'll support whatever decision you make, but I also want you to know you can talk to me. You don't have to go through this alone."

"You never wanted to quit," Jeffrey said. The tone coming from the teen's mouth was accusatory. "You always seem just fine with whatever it is we have do, have to face..."

"Actually, I did," Phineas said, cutting across Jeff's words. "I'm surprised you don't remember. You were there. You stopped me."

Jeff's eyes widened, then grew unfocused as he searched his memory. "Mabel," he whispered. "You were serious about that?" Phineas nodded. "I thought... I know I told you not to, that it would mess up history, but I guess I didn't think you really meant it."

"You were twelve. I don't think you really understood." Bogg could vividly remember how lost he had felt after leaving Mabel, making believe he was toying with her affections, that he was just like the other men who had hurt her. "You couldn't see how reluctant I was to go back to Boston and watch Bell get the telephone to work. I had to sit in a room for six hours with the man who was engaged to marry the woman I loved." He grimaced. "I could've spilled that acid on him myself, but I didn't. I knew you'd be disappointed in me." Jeff stared at him. "You told me, 'We've got the most important job in history.' It hurt, but it finally got through."

"You remember what I said?" Jeff sounded as if he couldn't believe it.

"It made an impact," Bogg replied. "I just want you to know I understand a little of what you're going through right now." He looked at Jeff with compassion in his blue eyes.

Jeff lowered his gaze to the ground. "Thanks." Phineas heard him sigh. "I think I'm going to walk around a little more." He nodded, watched Jeff walk away, and sat back down under the tree.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When evening fell, Jeff returned to the camp site for the night after having spent the day wandering. He never went too far from camp and checked in at regular intervals but never stayed too long. Each time he returned, Phineas could feel Jeff watching him, thinking and considering. The next day was a repeat of the first. Phineas did some maintenance work on the omni, then started on minor repairs to his boots and clothes. He took a few short walks but made sure he was never far from camp in case Jeffrey needed him.

On their second night, Jeff joined him at the fire and sat down. "What made you choose here?" he asked Bogg quietly.

"I was with John Muir when he convinced William Kent to donate the land for the park," Phineas answered. "I've always found it a good place to come when I need to think." Jeff nodded his agreement. Phineas waited, hoping Jeff would continue talking. After a few minutes in silence, Jeff asked, "Did you want to come here then?" Phineas didn't have to ask when he meant.

"Yeah, but I couldn't. I was responsible for you." He picked up a stick and started poking at the fire. "I didn't think you'd understand why I didn't want to see Bell again. Then we had to make sure the Eisenhowers were all right, and after that I found I didn't need to. Seeing the baby's birth was enough to put me back on track."

"Bogg, I..." Jeffrey shifted uncomfortably from side to side. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want, but do you still miss her?"

Phineas closed his eyes. Behind them he could see Mabel in his mind, her long hair and beautiful smile, her shaking shoulders when she turned her back on him the last time. He could hear her laugh and her voice as she told him she couldn't fall in love with Bell because she already loved him. "Yes," he said, opening his eyes and staring into the fire. "Part of me always will." He shifted his gaze to Jeffrey. "Is that why this was so hard for you?" he asked as gently as he could. "Did you fall in love with Rebecca?"

Jeff shook his head. "Not like that," he answered. "She was the first person around my age we've encountered in a while, the first one I had time to get close to." Jeffrey picked up a small rock and rolled it around in his right hand. "We travel around so much, we never get to know anyone that well."

"And because we were sick, there was time," Bogg finished. "Then we had to leave her, and when we got back everything was different. She had changed." He saw Jeff press his lips tightly together, as if he were trying to hold something in. "Then in Columbus, you found out she had lived a whole life you didn't know about and didn't include you."

Jeff dropped the rock. "Why did it have to be us?," he asked, his voice subdued. "Someone else could have made sure that medal wasn't stolen."

"Honest answer? I don't know," Bogg said. "If I had to guess, I'd say we were sent because the name Henry Heller would mean something to us. It would explain why the omni didn't turn green until after the ceremony." He chose his words carefully. "I think someone was giving us a gift, letting us know what Rebecca accomplished in her life."

"A gift?" Jeff's voice had an angry edge to it that Bogg recognized as grief. "What was the point of us saving her in 1970 if she was just going to die anyway? And worse, die in a time where she didn't belong?"

Bogg poked at the fire again, hoping a delay in answering would give Jeff time to calm down. "Jeff, everybody dies. We went to Isaac's funeral, what, a year ago?" He pushed two of the burning logs closer together. "You weren't this upset then."

"Of course not!" Jeff was shouting now. "I wasn't personally responsible for Isaac's death!"

"Jeffrey, no," Bogg remonstrated. "You heard what she said. 'I would have died in that fire.' We **saved** her. We got her out. We..." His voice died away as a sudden thought rushed through his mind.

"We what?" Jeff growled.

Bogg's voice dropped almost to a whisper. "We plucked her. She was going to die, and we plucked her." Jeff had to lean forward to catch what Phineas was saying. "We took her from her time and brought her into the past." Phineas looked up at Jeff. "Just like I plucked you from 1982. Just like I was plucked from my ship in that storm." In the firelight, Phineas watched puzzlement replace the anger in Jeff's face.

"You mean we were supposed to be there?" Jeff asked. "Are you saying Rebecca was supposed to be a Voyager?"

"No," Bogg said. "We would have ended up at headquarters in that case. She was the right age to enter the academy. As far as I know, you're the only Voyager-elect who didn't get sent right to HQ." He stopped to think for a moment. "I think we were sent to her. I think she was meant to be in Clarion and have a son who would impact history."

"That's insane," Jeff retorted. "We were supposed to create a time paradox so some guy could be born to fight in a Civil War battle the Union didn't even win?" Jeff stood up. "How can you even possibly believe that she was supposed to be there?"

Bogg could see the boy was almost in tears and tried to frame his answer so as not to upset Jeffrey further. "Because the alternative is that there **isn't **a reason for what we do. If things aren't meant to happen, then we aren't needed to make sure they do." Bogg brought his hand up to his face and rubbed his chin. "I've been doing this job a long time, and I've never been sent somewhere I haven't needed to be. Boston, Sydney, Africa, a certain apartment in New York City. I have to believe there's a purpose in what we do. Otherwise, I couldn't do it."

Jeffrey didn't look convinced. "But what is the purpose, Bogg? Right now, I'm having a real hard time finding one."

"Everyone needs to find their own, kid. For me, it's helping people." Phineas let out a long breath. "Look, Jeff, what would be worse? Getting to know Rebecca then leaving her to die in a fire and never knowing what happened to her? Or finding out she died after having lived out her life in a different time line?" Jeff sat back down slowly as if stunned. "Being taken from 1970 might have made Rebecca's life hard, but we helped her have a life – a husband who loved her and a son who made a difference. We can feel sad we weren't part of that life, but the important thing is we know we helped. Both history and her." Phineas stood up and looked over to where Jeff was sitting. "It's been a long day. I'm going to turn in." Jeff just stared into the fire. "Are you all right?"

Jeffrey shrugged. "I'm going to sit here for a bit," he said.

"Just stay close," Phineas said. "I'd rather you didn't go wandering around at night." Jeff nodded but didn't lift his eyes from the fire.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Phineas awoke the next morning, he found Jeffrey in the same spot by the now-dying fire. "Kid, were you there all night?" he asked.

Jeff looked exhausted. "I was thinking about what you said," he replied. "About Mabel. About Rebecca. About helping people."

"And?" Phineas crossed the camp site and sat next to the teenager.

"And it's hard," came Jeff's response. "It's hard not to think about what I want and what I feel. Bogg, for a few days I had a normal life. I made a friend; I wasn't being shot at or having to rescue someone. It was kind of nice." He rubbed his eyes. "Up until now just about everything we've done has been sort of easy because I knew what was supposed to happen."

"Except the Titanic," said Bogg. "I seem to recall that not being easy for you."

Jeff looked up and gave him a wan smile. "Yeah. Except the Titanic." He swallowed and moved his gaze back to the fire. "This time, once we got out of Denver, I didn't know what was supposed to happen. There was no 'thing' that needed to be fixed, nothing that seemed like an emergency. I got to just be a teenager." Jeffrey sighed. "I liked it."

Phineas took a deep breath. "Okay, so I guess we'll need to find somewhere with other kids your age."

"What?" Jeff started, turning his head to look at Phineas. "What do mean find somewhere?"

"Kid, you don't have be gentle with me," Phineas replied. "You've obviously made your decision. If this is what you need, then I'll find the best place for you to be until it's time for the academy."

"Wait, no. Bogg, that's not what I meant," Jeff spluttered, his face turning red. "I don't want... I mean I don't need..."

"Jeffrey..."

"Just listen to me!" Jeff shouted. "I don't want you to leave me somewhere!"

"You want to quit?" Phineas could hear how cold his voice sounded as he asked Jeff the question. The temperature matched the coldness stealing through his heart.

"What is it with you trying to get rid of me?" Jeff shouted again. "You try to leave me in Pittsburgh. You and Olivia go down on the Titanic. You disappear from Maui. Am I that terrible to have around?"

It took Bogg a few seconds to realize what Jeff was telling him. "But you... you said... After the last few days, I thought..." He stopped, feeling completely overwhelmed by the relief flowing though him. "Jeff, are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Jeff replied, giving Bogg the first real smile he had seen on Jeffrey's face since landing in Lawrence. "I liked being just a teenager. I won't lie to you, I considered both choices. Hard. There was only one problem with both of them." Jeff put a hand on Bogg's arm. "Neither one involved you." Jeff's voice was rough with emotion. "I figure there aren't a lot of people who would put up with what I've put you through the last few days, and I should probably stick with the one who does."

Bogg reached out and pulled Jeff into a hug. "You had me scared there, kid," he finally said.

"I had myself scared, too," Jeff responded, stepping back. "Now, I just need some sleep." He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"You do look pretty awful," Phineas teased him.

"**I** look awful?" Jeff laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face when I..." An enormous yawn overtook him, stopping him from finishing the sentence. Phineas guided him to some blankets and helped him lay down. Just as Jeff's eyes were closing he turned to his friend. "Hey, Bogg, when I get up, can we go back to Hawaii? I want to..." His voice trailed off as sleep overtook him. Phineas covered him with a blanket and sat down to wait.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Author notes:

Chapter 1: Katherine Anne Porter was a survivor of the Spanish Flu. While it's easy to find out the names of victims of the flu, it's much more difficult to find out who had it and survived. Many sources of information list anyone notable who lived through the time period as a survivor without actually indicating if the person got sick.

Chapter 2: Most rabbis will perform funeral services for anyone, even those who are not members of their congregation. It is considered a mitzvah. Rebecca's rabbi was a bit more cranky than most. Also, there aren't actually any Jewish cemetaries in Lawrence, MA. Shiva is where the immediate family of the deceased have calling hours at home. Other relatives and friends of the family stop in, generally bringing food, and a short prayer service is said.

Chapter 3: Thanks to everyone who pointed out that Tylenol wasn't commonly in use in homes in 1970.

Chapter 4: Lawrence did in fact have a serious arson problem for many years. For the purposes of this story the worst of it was moved from the middle to late 1970s to a few years earlier. When I was growing up in the area, it was an uncommon day when we **didn't **hear sirens heading towards Essex Street. All Jewish holidays run from sundown to sundown, so Shabbat starts on Friday night and ends on Saturday night.

Chapter 5: Clarion, PA wasn't actually incorporated as a town until 1841, although there were settlers in the area, so it isn't unreasonable to assume the name was in use before that time. Bogg's collecting firewood is significant as religious Jews don't do any work on the Sabbath, so if the firewood was getting low, Frau Heller wouldn't have been able to gather more until after sundown on Saturday. Working to save a life, however, is allowed.

Chapter 7: The information about Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt is true. He was in fact booked on the Titanic, and there were eyewitness accounts to his actions on the Lusitania. The details can be viewed online at The Lusitania Resource (enter Alfred Vanderbilt in the search box).

Chapter 8: In traditional Jewish wedding ceremonies, the woman's ring is placed on the index finger of her right hand.

Chapter 9: While Henry Heller is a real medal of honor recipient, his siblings were made up for the story. Rebecca would have had to do some fast talking to get one of her son's named after Jeffrey as Ashkenazi Jews do not name children after people who are still alive. The citation for Henry Heller's medal of honor can be found online at The Jewish Virtual Library (click search and enter Henry Heller).

Thanks to everyone who read my story. Special thanks to those who wrote reviews. I'm already plotting out the next one.

– Lisa


End file.
